


Hazy

by havetardiswilltimetravel



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Teabagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 22:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havetardiswilltimetravel/pseuds/havetardiswilltimetravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“God, you’re gorgeous…” John murmured, his eyes tracing the outline of Sherlock’s lips, the way his tongue flicked out to taste, the way he opened his eyes and behind those blown out pupils and heavy lids, John could still see the cocky glint that had sparked this in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hazy

Sherlock looked up as John straddled his chest, a hint of a smile on his lips. John’s eyes were dark and warm, the dim light of their bedroom outlining his lashes and letting everything else easily melt away. They made him feel hazy, safe, wanted.

He watched as John loomed over him, only closing his eyes as he felt John’s fingers in his hair and John’s balls grazing his face. They dragged down slowly, dipping at the arch of his brow, the curve of his cheek, catching on his nose, then his lips, and Sherlock breathed in, the smell potent and heady.

“God, you’re gorgeous…” John murmured, his eyes tracing the outline of Sherlock’s lips, the way his tongue flicked out to taste, the way he opened his eyes and behind those blown out pupils and heavy lids, John could still see the cocky glint that had sparked this in the first place.

Sherlock’s hands slid down John’s back to his arse, fingers squeezing and pulling him forward again, wanting more and wanting it now.

“And insatiable,” John continued with a huff of laughter.

“Mm, I just know what I want…” Sherlock smirked, deep baritone leaving no question as to what that was.

“Oh, I’m sure I could help with that…” John replied with a grin. His left hand moved from the bedspread to just under Sherlock’s chin, thumb dragging slowly down the center of his lips. “Open up then, love…”

Sherlock’s lips parted further, eyes closing once more as he felt the warm weight on his tongue, filling his mouth until he couldn’t say a word if he’d wanted to. The smell of earth and base and John grew, washing over him, and he laved his tongue across the skin, against the seam and around, lapping at every place he could.

“Christ…” John sighed shakily, trying to gather himself before the warm wet sensation swallowed him whole. Sherlock’s eyes slid open again, and John ran his thumb across one cheek. “God, look at you…”

Sherlock moaned softly at the look in John’s eyes, the tone in his voice - reverent, possessive, intense - and John hunched slightly at the feeling, his right hand tightening in Sherlock’s hair as his length twitched on Sherlock’s face.

He pulled out slowly, letting Sherlock take a proper breath of air, and then he was back, Sherlock urging him forward once again.

John’s left hand went to brace himself against the headboard, and he began to rock slightly, his eyes slipping shut. Sherlock hummed low, watching every single emotion that flit across John’s face and letting them wash over him. It was intoxicating. He thrust up, his cock insistent and straining, needing more, finding nothing. John was too far, but John was perfectly close, and one of his hands moved to their sheets, reaching and grasping at the fabric, as if somehow that could get him to bend, to thrust, to find what he needed.

A whine broke in his throat, and suddenly John was moving, body shifting and hands smoothing down his sides until he could take them both in hand and meet Sherlock lips with his own. The kiss was hard and messy and perfect and deep, and Sherlock gasped against it because finally, finally, there. He thrust up into John’s fist, feeling the drag of his cock against John’s, and raked his nails down John’s back and to his thighs, fingers splayed open, touching everywhere he could. John groaned against his lips, and Sherlock pressed in, swallowing the sound whole.

Soon, the need for air was unavoidable, overwhelming, and John broke away, lungs burning as he pressed kisses down heated skin, open-mouthed and messy. He thrust forward again, tightening his loose grip, and Sherlock bucked, keening out a word resembling his name.

“I’m here,” he panted against Sherlock’s skin, thanking anything and everything he could think of that he had this man to himself, in his life, had his love. “God, you’re amazing.” His voice rumbled in Sherlock’s ear. “Brilliant.” His teeth closed around Sherlock’s earlobe, and he pulled, teeth scraping down. “Fantastic.” He pressed another kiss just below the spot.

Sherlock arched up at the praise, at the feel of John’s lips and hands and cock, and he reached to capture John’s lips again, almost desperately.

They moved together, lamplight catching on sweat-sheened skin, little gasps and pants all that could be heard until Sherlock sobbed out his release - arched, throat bared, John’s name on his lips. John followed soon after, shuddering with a groan, his lips pressed against skin, his teeth leaving marks on Sherlock’s throat.

Slowly, the night came back down around them, the sounds of London and cars and the gentle whirring of the centrifuge Sherlock had left spinning in the kitchen. Slowly, their breathing calmed, heavy panting settling into deep blissful pulls. Finally, Sherlock pressed his hands to John’s chest, and John rolled over, pulling Sherlock with him until Sherlock’s head was resting on his chest.

“Mm…” Sherlock mumbled, his eyes already closed. He burrowed into John a bit more and let out a sluggish sigh. “…You get to clean up.”

John huffed out an amused laugh, his fingers carding through Sherlock’s hair once more. He shook his head. “Yeah, I love you, too.”


End file.
